A Match Made in Alcohol
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Crasher Wake is drunk, Silver is pretty, and bad, drunken post match flirting commences. It's awkward, it's uncomftorable, it's Poolsideshipping! WakeSilver, slash, oneshot.


"Hahahaha!" Crasher Wake roared. "Excellent match!"

Startled, the challenger raised an eyebrow and moved back slightly, but the happy Gym Leader wrapped an arm around him and struck a pose. The pose, somewhere between a pro wrestling stance and a disco move, was met with great enthusiastic applause by the rest of the Trainers in the gym. The now slightly disturbed challenger pulled away as the older man beamed at him. He projected the joy of a small child with the enthusiasm of a new trainer, and this much enthusiasm was kind of alarming. Scratch that, it was borderline insane and the snuggling had been just plain _uncomftorable_.

"Why, don't look so stern," Wake chided, his dark brown eyes sparkling, "That was fun! Admit it, you enjoyed fighting me." He said it in a way that put more emphasis on the word _me_ than any other.

The young man's lips twitched against his will. Not a smile, but it could be, given insane amounts of optimism. "It was interesting."

Wake laughed with, again, far too much passion. The loud, booming noise caused the younger man to step back by about a foot. "Is that it? That's all you can say, 'interesting'? You need a wake up call, my boy."

"I'm not a boy." All traces of a smile left the pale face. Silver eyes glinted dangerously at Wake from under a sea of fire red hair. "And I'm not yours."

Wake smiled widely, "My mistake." He sighed happily. "Ah, the battles I've had lately. So many good ones. Some days, I feel as if all I want is more, you know?"

The challenger shrugged, not really all that talkative. In the moment of silence between them, Wake saw the younger man's eyes look up and down the Gym Leader's body. A distinct red tinge set about his pale, foreign features, and he shook his head almost impercievably, trying to clear his thoughts. No, no, no no no, Silver told his brain. Stop it. This man was a nutjob. This man was sweaty. This man was... really hot, in an insane, lunatic sort of way. Deadly explosion attractive. Wake, having no mental inhibitions whatsoever, grinned. Oh, so this was one of _those_ kind of challengers, eh? No wonder he was so quiet during their battle. He was probably just shy. Young men were so bashful these days, honestly! Always hesitating with the first move and all that. The redhead was probably in that awkward 'not quite admitting it' stage of his life.

Wake was not, and he wrapped his arms around the startled man, pulling him close.

"You left me wanting more, too!" he chuckled. "It's not nice to do that." He lifted Silver's chin, meeting startled, half scared eyes with passion in his own. "You owe me a kiss."

The redhead's jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

"Quit looking so scared! Can't you enjoy something for once, red?"

"My name is Silver," was the soft reply as his face turned bright red. "And, um, I'm not... I'm not _gay_, alright?"

Wake let out one of those borderline evil, borderline Santa Claus 'HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HA!' laughs before affectionately beginning to braid Silver's hair. Silver stared, his gaze torn between the tiny braid and the certifiable lunatic in front of him. It was at that moment the redhead caught a whiff of something familiar.

"Have you been drinking?"

Another evil laugh followed, along with a disco-esque point to the sky. "I'm never drunk, for, you see, you can only be truly drunk out doors! Would you like to see what I mean?"

"No, not really," Silver said nervously, stepping back a little farther with each passing word. "I, um, I gotta go."

"Don't leave!" Wake's arms wrapped around the younger man's waist, his hands dangerously close to Silver's crotch. As the redhead turned bright pink at the cheeks, Wake howled, "I need a Trainer to be my apprentice, and you're just _perfect_!"

It was amazing how the word 'perfect' and the words 'I wish to molest you' seemed interchangable to Silver's ears in that moment. "And why should I stay?"

Wake kissed him then, a sloppy, hard, badly aimed, colliding sort of kiss that would've knocked a lesser man over. It should've been repulsive. Silver should've roundhouse kicked him and run for the hills. He should've called the cops. Instead, however, he leaned in, letting the tastes of seaweed and salt wash over him and the feel of warm arms wrapped around him distract him from the level of crazy that was a drunken Wake. His eyes closed. Mmm, yes.

"Okay, I'll stay. But on one condition."

"Yeah?"

"We should get drunk together as often as possible."

That was all Silver could say before Wake let out a loud, bar party 'WHOOOO!' noise and tackled him.

Game set, and match.


End file.
